


The Last Lie

by CorvetteClaire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Curses, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Romance, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 09:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23469280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvetteClaire/pseuds/CorvetteClaire
Summary: Harry knows better than to lie to Draco. It never ends well. But he'll do anything for his lover, even lie through his teeth, and just this once, Draco may let him get away with it.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 56
Kudos: 250





	The Last Lie

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [The Last Lie (Chinese Translation)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449710) by [katie0309](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katie0309/pseuds/katie0309)



> This is a bit of angst that I felt compelled to write. I'm not sure it's any good, but I needed to get it out of my head, and the only way I could really let go of it was to publish it. So here it is.
> 
> The structure is a little weird. It's all one long scene, with bits of flashbacks or other scenes (in parentheses and italics) cut into it, as a counterpoint to what Harry is saying. 
> 
> If I did it right, it'll be sad but not depressing.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Draco lay curled close to Harry’s side, head tucked into the hollow of his shoulder, body heavy with sleep. A lock of white-blond hair had slipped loose from its queue to fall across his cheek. Harry caught it with a fingertip and tucked it gently behind his ear. At his touch, Draco stirred, tightening his hold on the body supporting his and slotting his leg comfortably between Harry’s.

Crystalline lashes fluttered up. Eyes the color of storm clouds gazed up into Harry’s, soft and unguarded.

Harry felt his heart clench at the sight but summoned a smile. “Hey,” he whispered.

“Mm.” The throaty sound was all contentment.

“You warm enough?”

In answer, Draco caught Harry’s wrist and pulled his arm closer around him like a blanket. Harry took the hint, casting a powerful Warming charm to wrap about the other man. He was rewarded with another wordless grunt of satisfaction.

Draco’s eyes drooped closed again.

“Don’t go back to sleep, yet.”

He obediently opened his eyes and, with a visible effort, blinked them into focus. Then he yawned hugely, reminding Harry so powerfully of a child waking up from a nap that he couldn’t help but chuckle. When Draco lifted his head to gaze a question at him, Harry saw that his cheek was marked with red creases.

“What time is it?” Draco asked, in a roughened voice.

“Late. You slept through supper.”

“Humm.” He settled his head back in its usual place, rubbing his cheek against Harry’s shirt. Then he seemed to register what Harry had said. He tensed, and his head came up again. “Why didn’t the healers wake me?”

“I suppose they thought you needed rest more than food.”

He said it with all the innocence he could muster, but Draco wasn’t fooled. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Impossible. Those ghouls would dig me up out of my own _grave_ to make sure I ate on schedule.”

Harry tried not to wince at his words. He wasn’t entirely successful, but Draco gave no sign that he felt it. He just eyed him in that searing way and demanded, “What’s going on, Harry? What do you know that I don’t?”

“Nothing.”

_(“I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but we’ve run out of options, and it would be cruel to prolong this.”_

_“What are you saying? That you’re giving up?!_ _What about all those spells you were going to try? All those experts you planned to consult?”_

_“We’ve tried every spell we could think of, consulted healers from all over the world…”_

_“What about the Unspeakables? The Cursebreakers?”_

_“They couldn’t identify the artifact or the magic woven into it, but you already know this. You’ve seen their reports, spoken to them yourself…”_

_“There has to be_ someone _who can help him!”_

_The healer looked at him with so much sorrow and sympathy that it closed Harry’s throat up tight_ _. “I am sorry, truly, but there’s quite literally no one left to ask.”_

_Harry could feel his chest fill with agony, threatening to burst his ribcage and splatter his blood across the sterile, white walls. His voice came out as a strangled whisper._

_“You said we had time.”_

_“I was wrong.”)_

“You’re a terrible liar, Potter,” Draco declared.

Harry met his accusing glare with the guileless, faintly imbecilic smile that he always wore when trying to fool his lover. “Good thing I’m not stupid enough to try.”

Draco remained poised, staring, stripping Harry’s skin off with his merciless eyes for another heartbeat, then abruptly let his head drop to his chest again. “How do you propose to keep me awake?”

“Are you hungry?”

Draco grunted a negative, then murmured, “You could read to me.”

“Yeah, or...” His hand came up to stroke Draco’s hair in an unconscious gesture. “Could we maybe just talk? I’m getting tired of the sound of my own voice. I’d rather listen to you for awhile.”

_(“I just want to listen to his voice, Hermione. I want to sit with him, laugh with him, let him poke fun at me and call me names. I_ don’t _want to listen to him cry or beg for my help or list all the ways he thinks he’s let me down…”_

_“But don't you think he has a right to say those things, if that’s what he needs?” She swallowed painfully and added, in a tiny whisper, “To say goodbye?”_

_“He’s been saying goodbye since it happened.”_

_Harry’s voice sounded harsh in his own ears, but he couldn’t moderate it, couldn’t tamp down the feelings rising in his throat to choke him or waste time being gentle when his life was slipping away from him so quickly._

_“Every day, every time I’m with him, he says it in a hundred ways. He… he touches my face, and he smiles at me, and he tells me he loves me… He lets you win every argument and Ron thrash him at chess.” Harry broke off to master the tremor in his voice, before going on, “I may have the emotional depth of a teaspoon, Hermione, but I know a goodbye when I hear one.”_

_“Oh, Harry,” she sobbed, a hand coming up to cover her mouth.)_

“Listen to me do what? Recite rude limericks?”

“If you know any, sure.”

“They’re all in French and they don’t translate well.”

Harry chuckled at that. “Just talk. About anything.”

Perversely, Draco fell quiet again, and as the seconds of silence stretched into minutes, Harry could feel the cold collecting around him, as if he were breathing it out of his lungs. He silently cast another Warming charm, knowing that it would do no more to drive the chill out of Draco's flesh than the last one had, but that it comforted him regardless. When he felt the charm wrap around him, Draco hummed his thanks and burrowed deeper into Harry’s embrace.

“How long has it been?" he finally asked.

Harry swallowed painfully before answering. “Three months.”

_(“What's this, Potter?”_

_“How would I know, Malfoy? I already gave you your present.”_

_Draco shot him a taunting look from beneath his lashes that was spoiled by the flush of child-like excitement in his cheeks. “Then it must be from another admirer.” He waved the package at Harry. “Someone who thinks I deserve a surprise on my birthday.”_

_“Doesn’t it say who it’s from?”_

_“I haven’t opened it yet, you dolt.”_

_“Call me a dolt again, and the only surprise you'll get for your birthday is a spanking.”_

_“Promises, promises.” He ripped the paper off the mysterious package, exposing more colorful wrapping and a silver bow. “Definitely not from you. It’s much too pretty!”_

_“Do you really not know who it’s from?” Harry sidled closer to peer inside the outer wrapping. He could see no note, tag or card. “Maybe you should let me check it over, first.”_

_“Don’t be a spoilsport, Potter! Just because_ you _don’t get presents from secret admirers on your birthday doesn’t mean you have to steal mine!”_

_“Seriously, Draco, I don’t think…”_

_“Bollocks!”_

_Suddenly magic, like a storm of ice, exploded in the room, and all Harry could hear was Draco’s screams.)_

“Three months since my birthday?” Draco mused. “We’ve lost a whole summer.”

“Mm.” Harry tilted his head back against the bed frame and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes were dry, but they burned with the need for tears.

“We were going to travel.”

“We still can. We just have more time to plan our itinerary.” He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “If you could pick anywhere in the world, where would you like to go right now?”

“Someplace warm,” Draco answered promptly. Then, after a moment’s thought, “I’d like to lie on a white-sand beach—it doesn’t matter where—and let the sun cook the cold out of my bones.”

“I’ll find you that beach,” Harry assured him softly.

“Will you share it with me? Lie beside me, hold my hand and say idiotic things to make me laugh?”

“All day, until the sun goes down and the air gets cold. Then I’ll roll on top of you and kiss you and fuck you into the sand to keep you warm.”

Draco crinkled up his nose at that. “Sex in the sand sounds messy. Not to mention uncomfortable.”

“That’s what magic is for, you twat.”

“Really? Is that what you learned in your private lessons with Dumbledore? How to keep sand out of your tender bits while getting buggered on a beach?”

“ _Eurgh!_ ” Harry groaned, “that’s just _nasty!_ ”

“Sorry,” Draco said, sounding not sorry in the least.

“Now I’m going to have that image stuck in my head all night!”

Draco buried his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, laughing ’til tears started in his eyes. “I really am sorry,” he gasped between paroxysms.

“I don’t believe you. And I don’t forgive you.”

“Empty threats, Potter.” His laughter slowly subsiding, he turned to show Harry his flushed, grinning face and tear-bright eyes. “You’ll forgive me anything, as I think we’ve long since proved. Besides, if you stay mad, you won’t have a chance to bugger me on that beach.”

“True.” Harry chuckled and pressed a kiss to his head. “But you’re still a twat and a git and entirely unworthy of my forgiveness.”

“That goes without saying.”

They fell quiet again, savoring the warmth between them. Then Draco bestirred himself to break the silence.

“We must be into September.”

“It’s the first today. Start of the new Hogwarts term.”

“Mm.” He pondered this for a long minute, and when he spoke again, his tone was wistful. “Do you remember our Sorting?”

“How could I forget? I was terrified that I’d end up in Slytherin. I had to talk the Hat into putting me in Gryffindor, instead.”

“I never believed that story about you nearly being Sorted to Slytherin.”

“It’s true.” He grinned down at him. “And you know I’m telling the truth because I can’t lie to you.”

Draco smirked. “So the Sorting Hat really let you pick your own House.”

“Well, it let me say where I _didn’t_ want to go.”

“It didn’t give me that chance.” He lowered his head again and fixed his eyes blankly on the middle distance. “It shouted out _Slytherin!_ before it even touched my head.”

“But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“What makes you so sure?”

Harry raised his brows. “You told me the first time we met.”

“Right. In Madam Malkin’s.”

“That was the first I’d ever heard of Hogwarts Houses, and it convinced me that the last place I wanted to be was Slytherin!”

Draco gave a soft huff of laughter. “Merlin, I was a brat.”

“That’s putting it mildly. You were a snotty little ponce who practically _demanded_ to be pounded into the pavement.”

“But you fell madly in love with me, anyway, so what does that say about you?”

Harry chuckled. “You were a little less insufferable by then.”

“Nonsense. You fell for me the instant you laid eyes on me. You couldn’t resist my classic, well-bred beauty.”

Harry cocked his head, as if considering this, then shook it and said, “No, I definitely wanted to pound you. I spent years fantasizing about breaking that pointy nose of yours.”

“It wasn’t my nose you were fantasizing about, Potter.”

That startled a laugh out of Harry. He gazed down into Draco’s mischievous eyes and flicked a fingertip against the tip of his utterly perfect, if rather pointy nose.

“Git.”

Draco broke out in a wide, melting smile. “I know you really loved me all those years, no matter how badly you wanted to pound my pointy face.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I wanted you to, and we Malfoys always get what we want.”

“Oh?”

“The universe wouldn’t dare deny us. We are the cream of Nature’s Nobility, after all.”

“Indeed.” Harry laughed again, and added fondly, “Git.”

Tightening his hold on Draco’s body, Harry pulled him up into a kiss. It was soft, lingering, with little passion in it, but it sang in Harry’s blood and filled his body with warmth. He hummed and parted his lips, inviting Draco to deepen the kiss, if he chose. A moment later, a tongue slid between his lips and stroked lovingly against his own. His heart lurched, his breath caught, and his eyes stung with sudden tears. He clenched them shut to hide his reaction from the other man.

By the time Draco pulled away, Harry was silently weeping. He edged back just enough to look full in his lover’s face, then leaned in again to kiss away a tear that had pooled at the corner of his mouth. Harry’s breath hitched in a sob, and he smiled without opening his eyes.

“I’d tell you to forget the beach and bugger me now, but that would be the signal for Weasel to show up and catch us _in flagrante_.”

Harry’s eyes flicked open, spilling tears down his cheeks. “Ron?”

Draco gave him one of his best smirks. “It would probably scar him for life.”

“I don’t think he’s coming,” Harry ventured. “Not this late.”

Draco pulled back a little further, frowning. “But… he promised. Weasel always keeps his promises to me.”

Harry shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “He must have gotten tied up at work.”

_(“What d’you mean, I_ can’t see him?! _You’re seriously going to keep me away from Ferret when he’s_ dying?! _”_

_“He’s been dying for months, and you’ve seen him almost every day. One more won’t make a difference.”_

_“Yeah, but we didn’t know he… I mean…”_

_“I’m sorry, Ron, but this is my time with him. It’s all the time we have left, and I don’t want to share it.”_

_“Then you’re a selfish bastard!”_

_“Maybe. But I’m still not letting you in that room.”_

_“Fuck you, Harry! You’re not the only one who loves him! You’re not the only one who’s going to miss him!”_

_“No, but I’m the one who can make this easier for him. I can keep him from being afraid.”_

_Ron stared at him for a long, burning minute, then pulled him roughly into a hug. “You’d better,” he growled in Harry’s ear, “or I’ll fucking kill you.”)_

“I wanted to trounce his skinny, blood-traitor arse at Wizard’s Chess again,” Draco said grumpily.

Harry forced himself to chuckle. “I expect that’s why he arranged to work late.”

“Hmmph. Aurors. You’re all arrogant tits, you know? Convinced the entire wizarding world will collapse if you leave it unattended for five fucking minutes!”

“In my experience, it does.”

Draco eyed him thoughtfully for a moment, his snarkiness and petulance abruptly gone. Then hesaid, “Weasel can’t be too pleased that you’re still dancing attendance on me, leaving him without a proper partner. It’s no wonder he has to work ’til all hours.”

Harry slipped a hand behind Draco’s head to cradle his cheek, brushing it lovingly with his thumb. “Are you really upset that Ron didn’t make it? I can send an Owl to the Ministry and see if he’s still there.”

Draco shook his head and leaned into Harry’s chest once more, letting the other man guide his head down to its proper place. “It’s fine, as long as he doesn’t think this lets him off the hook. I _will_ wipe the board with him, the next time we play.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Harry didn’t bother to point out that, even when Draco was at his best he could rarely beat Ron at Wizard’s Chess, and in his current state, he could barely keep his eyes open long enough to finish a game.

“Besides,” Draco murmured into his shoulder, “if Weasel’s not at the Ministry working, he’s at home rubbing Granger’s feet. And the only thing more cantankerous than an Auror pulled away from a vital case is a pregnant woman with swollen feet.”

“That’s not fair. Hermione’s a very sweet pregnant lady.”

“She’s a menace to civilized society. Do you know, she threatened to read me the entire text of her House-elf Rights Bill yesterday? If the healer hadn’t put a top to it, she’d still be plowing through Sub-section nine hundred and six, listing all acceptable colors for the buttons on house-elf uniforms.”

Harry laughed softly at that. “Don’t worry. She’ll catch you when the healers aren’t around and tell you all about the buttons.”

_(“Tell Draco I love him.”_

_“He knows, Hermione.”_

_“Tell him anyway. And tell him that Ron and I are both here, if he wants us. We’ll be right upstairs in the tea shop, waiting for word.”_

_“There’s no point in hanging around…”_

_“There’s no way we’re leaving this hospital tonight, Harry! And there’s no way we’re letting you go through this alone!”_

_“I won’t be alone. I'll be with Draco.”)_

“Hmm, that’s a safe bet.” Draco yawned and snuggled a bit closer to Harry. “Hermione Granger is relentless.”

“Which is why the two of you get along so well. You both love the sound of your own voice.”

“Rude,” Draco mumbled, his eyes drooping closed.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep quite yet.”

“’M tired.”

“I know, just… give me five more minutes?”

“For what?” His eyes fluttered open again and lifted to Harry’s face. “Are you doing the healers’ dirty work, now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Keeping me awake, so they can poke and prod me. I’m sure it’s not nearly as much fun when I can’t feel it.” He paused, frowned, and blinked to bring Harry’s face into focus. “Where are they, anyway? They should’ve come with my usual round of potions by now.”

“Maybe you don’t need them tonight. Maybe you’re getting stronger.”

_(“Can’t you at least keep giving him the potions?” Harry begged. “They’ve neutralized the curse this long!”_

_“No, they haven’t. All they’ve done—all they were ever meant to do—is delay the spread of the curse so we had time to find a cure. But while we were looking, the curse was only getting stronger. Now it’s too late.”_

_Harry flashed on a memory of Dumbledore lying slumped in his chair and Snape working feverishly over his cursed, blackened hand, saying, ‘There is no halting such a spell forever…It is the sort of curse that strengthens over time.’_

_He shuddered._

_“He can’t survive this,” the healer went on inexorably, “and we’re only making it worse for him by trying to postpone the inevitable. Sometimes, Mr. Potter, the kindest thing we can do is to step away.”_

_His words cut through Harry’s chest like a blade. He ducked his head to hide his sudden tears and began to cry in terrible, silent sobs. The healer just stood there, watching, waiting for Harry to accept what he could not change._

_Finally, Harry swiped a sleeve across his eyes and asked, thickly, “Will it hurt?”_

_He shook his head. “It will be like falling asleep in the snow. He’ll get colder and colder, until he can’t feel it anymore. Then he’ll simply close his eyes.”_

_“And never open them?"_

_“And never open them.”)_

“I don’t feel stronger,” Draco murmured. “I feel cold.”

Harry smiled. “I can fix that.”

His Warming spell wrapped around them both, thicker and more powerful than any he had ever cast before, all his love and care flowing into it. Draco’s skin was still so cold that Harry could feel it through layers of flannel, but he relaxed into the warmth of the spell with a sigh of gratitude. He yawned again, snuggled still closer, and closed his eyes.

Looking down at his peaceful face, Harry wondered if he should let him go. If this was the time.

Pain and panic shot through him. His hold on Draco’s fragile body tightened.

 _No. Not yet_ , he thought fiercely. _I’m not ready!_

“Tell me something, Draco.”

“Mm?”

“What you said about wanting me to love you from the start… Did you mean it?”

“Idiot,” he mumbled fondly, “course I did.”

“Why?”

“B’cause I fell for you.” His words were so quiet and slurred that Harry had to strain to catch them, but he didn’t miss a one. “Not fair for me to suffer alone.”

“You fell in love with me when we were eleven?”

Draco just snorted at that, the sound so sweet and familiar that it wrenched at Harry’s heart. He caught Draco’s head between his hands and tilted it up so he could look into his eyes.

“In that ruddy robe shop?” he demanded.

Draco’s pale lashes drooped, and his lips lifted in a smile.

“How? How is it even possible to fall in love at eleven? How did you know what it… what it meant?”

“Didn’t. Just knew I had to have you.”

Harry gave a watery laugh and pulled Draco into a kiss. The other man’s lips were cold. Harry clung to them with his own, trying to warm them.

“Well, you got me in the end,” he murmured.

Draco’s lashes lifted once more, and his eyes—in that moment perfectly clear and present—caught Harry’s. Storm-cloud grey on green. “Is this the end, Harry?”

Harry met his gaze without flinching. In the back of his head, he was howling in agony, tearing his hair, screaming defiance at a universe that could use him so cruelly. But his smile was serene, his hands steady and his voice gentle when he said, “There’s no such thing as an end for us.”

Draco stared at him for another heartbeat, then nodded and leaned in to press his lips to Harry’s. As they parted, he murmured, “Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He stroked the white-blond strands back from Draco’s forehead, studied his pale, shadowed face and heavy eyes.

“You look knackered.”

Draco nodded again and nestled his head into the hollow of Harry's shoulder with a contented purr. "Okay if I go to sleep now?” he asked, his voice slurring with exhaustion.

“Don’t be daft.” Harry wrapped him up in both arms, automatically casting a Warming charm as he did so. “Close your eyes.”

Draco sighed his thanks and let his eyes drift closed. “Sorry… Know you wanted to talk.”

“I’ll forgive you, just this once.”

“Mmmmhhh…” Draco breathed, his body deflating as his mind slipped into the waiting darkness.

“Sleep well, love,” Harry whispered into his tousled hair. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

**_Finis_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Snape's dialog is from _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ , Chapter 33 "The Prince's Tale".


End file.
